1951年离开上海时,匆忙中却把童年与少年的足迹留在了那里。半个世纪后,每次回到黄浦江畔,不管是蒙蒙细雨,还是梧桐新绿,总要像寻找失落的珍珠那样找回那些久远的日子,想把它们一颗颗地拣起来,串成一串纪念的项链。不是纪念自己,而是纪念那个时代,纪念那个时代里的仁人志士。在当年的腥风血雨中,他们是弱者,只能以自己的胸膛面对敌人的枪口;他们又是那么的清贫,往往只有一套衣服,晚上洗了,第2天还没有干透, When left in 1951 in Shanghai, he was hurried to leave behind the footprints of childhood and adolescence. Half a century later, every time I return to the banks of the Huangpu River, it is always like looking for lost pearls for those long days, whether they are drizzle or new green, and want to pick them up one by one, string together Memorial necklace. Not to commemorate themselves, but to commemorate that era, to commemorate that era of benevolent lofty ideals. In the reign of that year, they were the weak and could only confront the enemy’s muzzle with their own chest; they were so poor, they often had only one set of clothes and they washed at night and did not get dry on the second day,